Of the Offense of the People
by Harvey Carrol
Summary: I'll stick my second bit here. I think it should get a higher rating than the little box below here says I can give it. I dunno why, but I'll leave it up to yall to decide if I picked right or not. My friend called this idea the "Best Fanfic Ever".


Now, I didn't write most of this story. The first chapter was written by an English major friend of mine. He helped me alot with the second bit too. I liked the bit he wrote for it, and he said it was ok if I post it. We was gonna write more, but that kinda fell on its ass because the semester ended. I've been told to mark it as "Mature" since there's some bits that're little too racey for the children. 'Afore I forget, I **had** used different fonts in chapter 2 so yall'd know there's a big difference how the two of the guys write, to make it even more obvious that it's not the same fella. The shift happens in the section that's labled 11/10/2008. It's a lot easier to find bits in the OpenOffice version, since I used headings and all that.

Of the offense of the people Chapter 1 - Of Rufus

The abrasive glow of the microwave cast an eerie light across the kitchen; Rufus looked at the clock; twelve o'clock sharp; Mr. Possible would be dead asleep at this point. It was safe to move - safe to be with the misses. Up above on the second floor, Mrs. Possible glanced at the clock in the room; soon now, soon he would crawl through the door way. Like the mechanics of the clock, all she needed to do was lift the covers with her feet and part her robe enough for the small creature to crawl in. Jealously struck at her heart; oh, how she longed to be rid of her husband so she could take Rufus all to herself. The other harpies in the town weren't good enough for him; he was a classy rat, and she a classy lady. Her commitment to the shell of a family restricted her; the love with her husband - no more than a simple tool. "He might as well run on batteries,", she thought. She heard the microwave beep downstairs; "Midnight", she mouthed, her body trembling from the thought.

Downstairs, Rufus opened the secret compartment he had made in the cupboard. He had stashed an impressive array of toys here; Mrs. Possible was never pleased with the same act twice, so fresh ideas were essential. He pieced around, wondering what should be tonight's venue: no dolphins, those are over used. Perhaps the barbed whip? No, too loud; Mr. Possible woke up once from the whip cracking; Rufus smirked, remembering the comfort of Mrs. Possible's innards as he hid, for once, his size working to his advantage. The clock turned to 12:01; unaware of the clock, but aware of the mistress' longing, Rufus resumed his shuffling about the hidden compartment. As he frantically searched, he came across the Trojan ring; "Of course!" Rufus struck his head. He could wear it as a collar, sit and just the right angle, and between his tongue and the vibration mechanism he would bring her to...

Rufus squealed with delight;the pressures of his lady of the evening were the best part, her succulent body wrapping around him, releasing a stream of ecstasy upon him. He lived for this, thrived on his mistresses pleasure; after all, what else could give him solace as he weathered the days with the petulant children? "That Kim," he thought as he tore the ring from its packaging. He understood the men in the community; they couldn't wait, just like he couldn't. Well, for now, her mother would have to do. He snapped the ring around his neck; it was tight, but the minor asphyxiation simply added to the enjoyment. He closed his hidden room in the cupboard, straddled down the string ladder, and sprinted off towards his lady.

Tragedy struck; Rufus sprinted pasted the objects on the counter, his mind on one thing and one thing alone. Seduced by the power of her body, her womanly aroma bringing him deeper and deeper into his titillation, nothing else registered with the mole rat, save the idea of the tantalizing woman, with fleeting thoughts of the fecund young female in the same house. Upstairs, the clock changed to 12:03; "Where is that little rat," Mrs. Possible wondered. She began to rise, to go looking for him, but an idea gave her pause. She moaned. Quiet yet haunting, it carried through the cavernous house. The air inside the building as silent as a mouse, save the pitter patter of the ecstatic rodent scrambling towards his goal. Rufus, heightened by the auto-erotic asphyxiation and the memories of the scent of his lover, heard the soft moan, and moved into a full charge across the counter.

He sprinted past the various cooking utilities; across the double sink, the drip drip of the faucet reminding him of the moist cave which he sought. Past the stove, it's ambient warmth tickling his skin, her warm fleshy thighs upon his cheeks. Past the can opener, the magnetic pull of the locking mechanism like her hand upon his head, pulling him upwards towards her head for a quick kiss and job before he left. Pulling him upwards. Upwards.

Rufus didn't understand it at first; it was all so quick; leaping over the cord of the opener, the metallic ring catching on the magnet. Quickly, as advertised, the machine went to work, locking the can in place; the poor rat couldn't move, as the device clamped around his legs holding him tight and the ring was restrained by the can support bar. The child safe opener lowered down, its blades ready to slice through the aluminum. A whir of tearing flesh and weak squeals, and Rufus popped down from the can opener. The gashes were deep; in his struggle, he had bruised his body greatly, wanting only to escape, not thinking about his landing; the ring which caught on the metal support piece had bruised his neck, which swelled into the tight flexible plastic ring. His vision faded, his body fell into shock. The endorphins fluctuated within him, slowly lost in his fading consciousness.

Mrs. Possible cooed again, her voice carrying through the empty house. Rufus recovered from his stupor, enough to remember his goal. Drunk on his condition, he stumbled through the house, climbing the stairs haphazardly, bouncing against the wood panelling beneath the carpet. He stumbled through the open door. It was hard to see again, but something lured him in. Mrs. Possible heard the door creak open as Rufus bumped his way into the room. "Finally!", she thought. She lifted the covers up with her feet, as usual. It took Rufus a moment, but soon she felt the pull of the bed sheet against her thighs, and the weight of the rat upon the foot of the bed.

Struggling to get to his destination, Rufus stumbled forward on all fours. He had to do this...this...he couldn't remember it all. What had happened? Why was his body so numb? He couldn't see anymore, his eyes watered over with tears, blackened out as his body began to lose function. But that scent! That familiar glorious scent! He climbed towards it, and then tried to raise up on two legs; he stumbled back. Struggling to pull himself up, he realized he couldn't breathe; the swelling was too great. He fumbled at the ring around his neck, feeling an oversized lump at the base of his neck; the vibration mechanism, but in his delusion, he couldn't resolve what it was. Part of the plastic gave, and his entire body began to vibrate. Blood seeped from the wounds over his face, and soon, everything went dark.

Mrs. Possible could hear the vibrating ring turn on, and felt Rufus stop moving. He was being coy, stopping at her thighs. "So you wanna play?" She thought, "well I'll play!" She whispered harshly, "Oh no you don't! You get in there and you enjoy it, you dirty rat. You dirty, bastard of a rat!" Grabbing his body, she shoved his head into her crevice; the ring contacted her flesh, and she throbbed into ecstasy.

Several minutes later, Mrs. Possible collapsed on the bed; the ring was perfect, and Rufus, oh Rufus, just like the real thing. He was solid, and remained still, occasionally slipping out, forcing her to push him back in. It was like her college days all over again, a school girl after her first trip to a backroom store. Her vision began to black out; it was too good, the reminiscence, the sensations, Rufus' dedication to the act. She muttered out an apology, which slurred into silence. "I'll remember to please him next week," she thought. "He'll understand and clean up." Mrs. Possible closed her robe, as appearances were important. "I hope he finishes enjoying himself soon though," she thought as she fell into the recesses of sleep.

Chapter 2 – Of Drakken

Written by: Harvey Carrol

Date: 11/05/2008

Damn that Kim Possible, again she foiled my plans. My latest subatomic particle beam, the brand new Higgs Boson collider, AND my perfectly good antimatter trap. ALL destroyed. This is probably the worst setback I've ever suffered. Even worse than those damn aliens. Even with all the damage they did I still had all the really good equipment safe in the lair.

Strange thing, there was a guy who just wandered around the side of the battle waving his hands about. Something about him unnerves me.

Date: 11/06/2008

Now I know I'm going crazy, that guy I saw yesterday, the one who flailed his arms a lot. He was hanging around the store today. I didn't get a good look at his face, but he seems to be... strange.

I'm still getting strange vibes from him.

Date: 11/09/2008

Ok now I know something is up, that flailing guy is hanging around my street. He gives me the creeps.

Date: 11/10/2008

I swore I'd never use this archaic Noetic Transmogrifyer again. The last time I used it I couldn't remember what happened for four years. The first time I just forgot what I did for a week. Everyone around me seemed to be changed when I woke up. The guy is still somewhere around. I can _**feel**_ him.

The base has been compromised, there's something beating on the door upstairs. I can get over any sort of discomfort that I feel about the system.

**Author's Note: this is where the font's supposed ta change. Sorry it don't seem to take it when I put it in to da system.**

Date: 11/10/2008

Ah the bumbling idiot in me is gone. The fool simply will not accept that he's just a cover for me.

There is a frighteningly familiar noise from the upper levels. I would know what it is, however somehow the twit who I am forced to hide behind has managed to destroy, disable, or scavenge nearly all of of my technology. I can imagine that some of the more simplistic devices might have worked for him, but given his relatively rudimentary understanding of technology I doubt that he could actually use anything to it's fullest extent.

Ah, luckily for me he's too dull to recognize the Etheric plasma converter. I pray that I am wrong as to what that thing up there is.

Date: 11/12/2008

Once more unto the breach, I have discovered that the Flailio menace has returned. These poor misbegotten children of some pernicious, fetid, and generally amoral thing from beyond, are a pox on this earth. I've rid the world of them once before, and it seems that the time has come that I must do so again. At first I thought I might have been mistaken. Unfortunately, as per usual, my theoretical simulations of the possible breach in the Ether shell proved to be quite correct. I was astonished by the abilities Flailios to re-enter this dimension from whatever abhorrent realm they hail from. This universal disease must be eradicated, however I wonder if even I have the technology, nay, the tenacity to hold the line. No, this is not a task that I can leave to those who cannot defend themselves. The poor families who sleep blissfully unaware of the evil which is slowly and quietly flailing its way deeper into the heart of this world, they need my protection. For the good of the world, the health of the universe, and for Science I will not fail.

So far I have been loosing ground. This war has dragged on for several months from the first time I noticed the Flalios. These things, which after the capture and vivisection of a specimen, seem to be some sort of mutation of a normal human into otherworldly abomination. Even as I worked on the monstrosity I could not help but think how it would make for an excellent addition to my latest submission to the journals. Even after carefully studying their physiology and the general construction of their biological patterns I can find no definite and consistent weakness in the Flailios. As much as I despise their creation, I cannot help but be impressed by the shear contorted brilliance of the designer. Look at their basic neural system, a human has but one mind, and a Flailio, much to my consternation has none. Egads! I cannot believe that I was so foolish as to overlook that simple fact. All the Flailios that I have seen lack any sort of higher order neural organization. Use of any form of Noetic fields would do nothing but simply fall upon the vacant area. However, combination of the most simplistic field analyzer with a Noetic sensor would result in the detection of a Flailio. These creatures would be the only thing which showed both highly organized lifeforms, but lacking any form of Noetic field.

The use of the noetic field and Life ether fluctuation analyzer has preformed most admirably in its first field test. I've managed to connect the two and the systems seem to be not only compatible but stable as well. Unfortunately I'm still well behind in my Scientific advancements, as the mentally handicapped version of myself seems to have completely disassembled the Ether Translocation devices. I cannot repair them as quickly as I would prefer, since the Flailio attacks have been increasing in regularity. Soon there'll be more of those things than there will be people.

Date: 11/15/2008

I've managed to finish my Translocation suit. In true fashion I've managed to incorporate the whole system into a form fitting jump suit. I find it highly amusing that it is a jump suit, considering that the Translocation system can allow for the relocation of a single individual, with personal equipment of course, to any location that it has previously mapped. Since my systems have been damaged by my long. . . absence, they cannot help but be delayed. Luckily I've managed to create an automated repair unit for the Subether signaling system. It should allow me to correct the damage that is crippling my system.

Date: 12/10/2008

It is a dark day. I have crossed a boundary I swore I would not cross again. After three years of quiescence I guess that even my morals decay. I have expanded upon the works of my fellow scientists and I have managed to breach the one boundary even the great doctors have failed to break. This is truly a new fronter, no matter how damnable it seems.

Through my efforts against the Flailios I have secured half of my original thirty Orgone energy generation plants. This has provided access to a greater deal of power than I remember, I may have to examine the possible non-renewability of Orgone energy (a frightening prospect to say the least). With such a steady supply of Ether and the prime energy source it provides I have reopened my studies into the works of some of the greatest scientists. By the coupling of a Feng shui derived algorithm to a high yield temporal stasis system functioning on a most esteemed college's Chrononautic treatise as a base, with a bit of my own personal theories on the time-space-ether interactions thrown in to balance the equations I've managed to build the "nuts and bolt,s" to use the colloquialism, system that is required for a full rejuvenation of a recently deceased individual. Given the inherently unpredictable nature of this methodology, along with the dangers of "reaching" into the past to pluck out someone who is dead in this present time stream, I had to postpone field tests until the biofield detection, analysis and replication system was complete. Using a few notes I had taken at the last conference on the matter, I managed to scrap together a fully working ether conveyance system. This way I can shunt the whole biopattern replicated by the Life-Output-Matrix into an ether form which will then be pushed through the Chrononautic systems and will, thanks to some famous sleeper scientists, push the pattern I wish to preserve out of that time stream and into an ether form which I can retrieve.

Currently I have just completed testing of the Extradimensional Comparison array which examines each dimension which is near our own and, as the name suggests, compares it to our dimension searching for the correct "soul" if you will to be placed into the body. I have little knowledge of "souls" but these esoteric things, by their nature neigh impossible to define and in their own way validating the Heisenberg principle, can be defined by what they are not. Since each dimension has its own slight variations my Comparison array scans each dimension and makes a highly educated guess as to what kind of "soul" that this universe is missing. It then constructs this "soul" (I use the term soul as I have yet to find a better definition, since soul is just loosely ambiguous enough that no one can find fault with it) and then places it within the ether-form of the body I am retrieving. As for the animus of the thing, I have vastly improved my Noetic Transmogrifyer, which was actually quite easy requiring only the addition of a Odyllic object creation engine which the Transmogrifyer can introduce a Noetic pattern into. This system, when coupled to the rest of my newest invention, allows me to effectively "resurrect" someone or thing that has died. I cringe to use the term resurrect, however it is fairly accurate as the thing I bring back is as close as possible to the deceased individual without actually being that person. I have yet to put it to an actual field test, however all the components are fully functional and can operate independently should the need arise.

The first experiment with the system, which I have decided to call the Deus-In-Mechinam (a slight jab at another Scientist who thought I was nothing but a braggart) was a success. I have managed to return a being from the past who died recently. I believe this DiM may be the best method of combating the Flailios as it will allow me to retain an army without having to constantly find new recruits who have no experience. On a slightly more somber note, I do not believe that it would be quite wise to use the system in the method I outlined above, as there is bound to be some error inherent in my calculations (given the propensity of Flailios to break reality as it is I see this as a noteworthy risk). Overuse of the machine may cause errors in several of the systems to start to compound. Given the fickle nature of Feng Shui calculations, combined with the fact that the Extradimensional Comparison Array cannot make a precise determination of the "soul" I believe that these may cause the wrong thing to be brought back. Even given the need for a biological sample (how else would it replicate a replacement to preserve the time line?) I do not think it is an adequate system for repetitious use.

Date: 12/14/2008

The Possible family has suffered great losses these past few weeks. After loosing her mother to a strange cervical virus, apparently caused by fornication with a deceased naked mole rat; Kim Possible's father was recently pronounced dead at a local emergency care room. His body showed signs of massive intestinal hemorrhaging, as well as blunt force trauma to the occipital lobe. I will make mention, solely for posterity, that his nude and unconscious form was found next to a traumatized horse. I refrain from making the obvious speculation as to how this came to be, and I refuse to use any form of my postcognative skills in that area. As for Mrs. Possible, I was able to conclude after receiving tissue samples from the hospital, that the virus which led to her demise is a mutated retrovirus which seems to be more suited to inhabiting the gray cells of naked mole rats. This is what led to my conclusion (along with the mole rat being found in a certain area of her person) that the virus was contracted from the aforementioned activity. While the virulence off this virus is concerning (and the fact that all the women, except the young Ms. Possible, of the town came for a quick blood test to check for infection) I conducted further tests and concluded that it is completely harmless, as the massive number of viruses required to infect a single individual could only be found in the brain of a naked mole rat (and also the virus is so rare that this is the first documented case of its existence.) The last reason for it's harmlessness is that the virus could only have arisen through a very long list of highly improbable circumstances, many of which require exposure to high energy Ether of a certain form which is only to be found in the labs of Scientists. I have submitted a warning to all Scientists to alert them of this threat (although I doubt any would be so depraved as to use so many human women as donors for genetic material to the virus, but in the event there is one I have not submitted all the requirements for the viral formation so they will have to discover those for themselves).

The young Ms. Possible, although greatly bereaved, is still the most attractive woman in the town at the moment. I digress from my usual Scientific discourse for this little personal note, and I will refrain from doing so again. Ms. Possible seems to have taken a fancy to the local high school's home economics teacher, a move, I think that, will not be in her own best interests. She has also approached me with the question of reviving her pet mole rat Rufus, which I accepted as a simple enough test of my DiM. However I was unable to complete the process of revivification before the Flailios attacked a mall. I was forced to leave the creature unfinished, and due to the fluctuations in the time stream I will be unable to continue the process at a later time. I tendered my apologies after saving four hundred people from the newest Flailio menace.

While I am on the topic of the Flailios, they seem to have developed a new strain. This is most distressing. The new Flailio is, for lack of a better term, a super hero. This Flailio lacks the usual symptoms of a Flailio up until it transforms into it's Flailio form. Upon reaching this state it begins the normal Flailio actions, however anything it manages to catch with its flailing hands is instantly torn to shreds. While tearing things to shreds is the hallmark of all Flailios this one seems capable of rending even the most sturdy armor. I am greatly concerned, as it also seems either totally or partly immune to any form of force. I have used Tesla cannon, plasma projectors, High-energy Ether blasts, Rarefied atomic acid gases, and even a highly illegal "death ray" which I swore not to reveal the source of. Normally I would not resort to such dangerous methods, but this Flailio seems to be impervious to all that I have tried. I am nearly at the end of my ingenuity.

Upon brief reflection I realize that to deal with a Flailio that can destroy anything it hits, the simplest solution would be to wrap it in a space-ether matrix from which it could not escape. This would effectively sequester it from anything that it could actually hit, as it would be traveling along the same length of space for it's whole episode. I will begin work on the Ether Induced Spacial Looper immediately.

Date: 12/15/2008

Success, the EISL works perfectly. I have managed to trap the Flailio "super-hero" within a space loop. Next I will have to use an applied Chronoton field to alter the time frame reference inside the loop. So long as I keep the ether waves in sync I should be able to speed up time or slow it down depending on my whims.

I have also learned of a rather concerning fact. The nations of the world have created a sort of international doomsday weapon. If any nuclear blast is detected within the limits of a major city the weapons will be triggered, nothing but ash and memories will be left of this civilization should this happen. I cannot simply allow this to pass. As a preventative measure I have developed a long shelved Noetic Wave Amplifier and Converter. The NWAC will allow me to focus my noetic energies at a target, they will be amplified by the system and then converted into an invisible but tangible force. I believe, from several tests I have run, that this is similar if not identical to the force that physicists call kinetic energy. Should the need arise I think the NWAC can also be used to relocate myself. I cannot see how any sort of interference can stop my conveyance systems, but I do prefer to have a backup plan.

Date: 12/17/2008

I am rather physically exhausted at the moment, so pardon any problems I have while writing this entry. The Flailios attacked again. It was the largest Flailio attack since the last massing of 1984, strange I never really thought of Orwell as a fellow Scientist, and I still have trouble picturing that. Too bad that George has left us for the inner realms, however I do think he'll come back from the Goro monks someday. Ah the pinning for ages past, but I digress. The attack happened at the funeral for the Possibles. Young Ms. Possible, who I admit made an admirable foil for my idiot self, seemed to be spending too much time staring at the home economics teacher to do much. This was a fact I was most thankful for at first, given the propensity of Flailios to cause severe damage if anyone other than a trained individual deals with them.

At first it started as any other day, I was dressing myself for the funeral when the Noetic-life ether analyzer warned me of a Flailio. Normally this would have not provoked too much of a response, but my precognitive sense alerted me to a massive event of great import. This provoked me to put on the precognitive enhancement and projection helm. After focusing the temporal waves and directing the chronotons to a single time juncture I found the event. The sight of two Flailios at the funeral concerned me, and so I girded myself for almost any circumstances. When the funeral started I was too distracted, given that I could not use the Noetic-Life-Ether analyzer without interrupting the ceremonies.

Just as the caskets were being lowered into the ground (I will mention that they are buried next to each other in the event that I forget in future) the Flailios came. At first I did not notice them, as the epitaphs distracted me, I will never be able to reconcile Mrs. Possible with the phrase "Devoted Wife." however the mole rat was definitely a "Beloved pet," given the manner of Mrs. Possible's death. Once I notice the Flailios I went into action. The young Ms. Possible attempted to fight as well, however she was quickly disabled, but I will recount that later. As the Flailios approached I deactivated the holographic tuxedo that I was wearing. I pulled out the amplified fusion rifle, normally I would abhor the use of lethal weaponry, however as the Flailios are incurable, quite mad, sadistic, hateful of natural life, and obviously of extradimensional origin I learned long ago not to hold them to the same standard as the rest of the "living" if they really are alive. With the fusion rifle I managed to cut down the first Flailio, but then I noticed a small group in the back circling a small instant noodle cup. Dear reader, I know this makes little sense, however for extradimensional beings even the simplest things can be conduits. How I wish that those who follow a non-Scientific path were correct and that the summoning of powerful demons required powerful and costly ingredients. As you may surmise, the Flailios circling the noodle cup were summoning an avatar of their god, Flailius Maximus. I do not know if this is it's real name, it is the only name I have bee able to pry from the remaining synapses in the vestiges of a Flailio's mind. I apologize again for my rambling, I will return to the recounting. As the presence of a Flailio avatar would soon herald the summoning of Flailius Maximus, I had to forgo targeting the nearest Flailios in favor of eradicating the larger threat. Using my NWAC I jumped (although flew might be a more appropriate term) over the ten lines of Flailios and assaulted the summoners. I misjudged how draining this sort of use of the NWAC is. Soon after jumping the Flailios I found my mind much too sluggish and drained to do so again. As I was occupied with this task the young Ms. Possible attempted to take up her mantle of super hero again, however the Flailios are not a race which is impressed with fancy acrobatics and physically weak attacks. She quickly fell to their unswerving focus on a single task, and by placing herself between them and their objective she threw herself into that situation.

I realized only too late that she was quickly torn apart by the random flailing of their arms. On my honor as an Emeriti I will never use a wood chipper on a tree again, as it would remind me too much of the young Ms. Possible getting turned into something similar to ground meat by the Flailios. Upon reflection I am glad that I am a vegetarian as after witnessing that, I do believe that I would never be able to eat ground meat either. With a micro-mega-gravity generator I managed to crush thirty Flailios into a singularity, which I had the Conveyance network ship directly to the sun. Hurling myself over the remaining two lines of Flailios I managed to hold them off by raking the front line with blasts of plasma. The amount of power required to keep the fusion rifle firing proved to be far too great for the small quantity of condensed ether I had brought with me. Tossing the empty weapon to one side I was forced to resort to my fencing expertise and judicious use of temporary mutations making me stronger and more agile than any human could ever be naturally.

After putting down the last twenty Flailios and creating a buffer zone between the normal people and the Flailio reserves, which were moving in, I managed to send a message to my ship, "The Exon". The sight of my pride and joy sailing gracefully over the treetops, her reinforced steel plates gleaming brilliantly in the waining sunlight, brought a slight tear to my eye. I had never seen any zeppelin look quite so fine than the moment The Exon passed overhead. With a few quick commands the automated systems raked the remaining Flailios with my Pattern negation rays. I would not normally sanction such weapons in this dimension, however I am but one man. One man, one man against a whole army of extradimensional fiends. I have yet to see a single individual who can deal with the Flailios, and my fellow Scientists are too untrained and unprepared to ask for their assistance.

Once "The Exon" had finished her grizzly work, I retrieved a small sample of what used to be young Ms. Possible. I took this sample to my lab and put the DiM to work. After the first few hours of searching for the perfect match I managed to grab the young Ms. Possible right before she got her foot caught by a Flailio. She was greatly confused, however I managed to calm her down with a Noetic wave projector, set on passive of course. Once she was rational I managed to explain that I had returned her to life through the use of the DiM, she bemoaned the loss of her parents. I consoled her as best I could. She asked about her pet, I apologized as the sample she had provided was used, however the DiM cannot use the same sample more than once for obvious reasons. If she was set on having her pet revived I would require a second sample, and enough time to operate the DiM. In her shock the young Ms. Possible suggested that she could retrieve a sample of her pet from her mother's dead body, as he spent a great deal of time in physical contact with her. I have linked this statement to her obvious distress, and for the more perverse readers I make note that I will do nothing so vile as digging up a buried corpse to retrieve a sample from such an area. After consoling her, and dancing around the question of what happened to Mrs. Shego, I sent the young Ms. Possible home.

I cannot believe that even my idiot self was so imbecilic as to allow the individual known as Shego to come that close to my lab, let alone his own experiments. I will need to fabricate a better cover identity, preferably a smarter one, if I need to go into remission again.

Date: 12/25/2008

The young ms. Possible stopped by again today. Unfortunately I had a great deal of material to cover. This made me a less than ideal host. Because of this I suggested that she visit at a later date. However, due to the Flailios outside my fortress it was unsafe tor anyone to leave without the use of a conveyance system. Given the dangerous nature of the conveyance systems I concluded that someone so untrained as the young Ms. Possible would be unable to use such a sophisticated system without either extensive training or the assistance of a fully qualified Scientist.

Due to the nature of my lab work, which as usual does not function well with the presence of a non Scientifically minded individual, I could not leave the building. After the first two experiments summarily destroyed themselves I abandoned the lab work. The Flailio presence outside made it impossible for the young Ms. Possible to leave. Due to that I was forced to play host for the rest of the day. I regret that I cannot add more here, as my guest may become neglected if I linger here much longer.

Date: 12/26/2008

I am a fool. While I cannot say that last night was un-enjoyable, it was a great mistake. While I will not put the details of my sordid affair to record, especially since I intend on leaving this record should any other Scientists chance upon it, I will say that Ms. Possible left my house earlier today. While I was somewhat hesitant to do so I again chanced a glance into the future. I am ashamed at my actions, given that the young Ms. Possible is still young. Yes, she is young, but not so young as I had previously thought. I cannot stomach the idea of our child growing up in a world overrun by Flailios, nor can I simply destroy it. While I do not agree that the child is human at this moment, given that it is a small multicellular organism and does not share any human characteristics, I am an innovator. While these two claims may be, at times, mutually antagonistic I do not see them as such. I am a creator of new things, this new living thing is unseen in the world before now. It has yet to make her own impact. Given that the future is somewhat murky I am unaware as to if this child will grow up to be anything like either of her parents, however I can say for a certainty that it will grow up.

I again reiterate that I am a fool. In a moment of weakness I did something which no good Scientist should ever do. While it was at her instigation, I cannot help but feel partly responsible for the actions that we both took last night. I was used as a substitute for the high school's home economics teacher, but I allowed myself to be used in that way. And in the words of the never more appropriate expression "it takes two to tango."

Date: 01/05/2009

For now, my zeal to defeat the Flailios is rekindled. With the chance that my child may have to grow up in this world I will make it a safer place. I have also accumulated a great deal of some sort of quirky aftereffects of being exposed to so much high energy reactions. The air around me seems to fill with the whispers of anyone nearby. While this would normally be quite helpful it seems that the whispers are indistinct, even to advanced Scientific instruments, and they prove to be little more than unsettling to people who are unaccustomed to them. I have also seem to impart some sort of energetic field into anything I am near, people become overly energetic, animals run around in circles or conduct themselves with great rapidity, and even the lowliest plants become more lively.

Date: 02/10/2009

Major breakthrough today into a much broader field of extradimensional research. Normally I'd simply have to alter the composition of a substance to create small amounts of what I'm looking for. However, as an emeriti I normally translate everything into something to do with my field of expertise, the field of noetic Science. It's a strange thing to understand how the minds of the things from beyond this world think. Now that I understand them better I think I can finally set a trap for Flailius Maximus. This will require a great deal of my attention.

Ms. Possible came again today, she seemed no more eager than I to discuss what happened between us. She provided a new sample of the mole rat's tissues. I had finished locating the correct pattern with the DiM, however before I could fill the constructed shell with the correct noetic wave form Ms. Possible fiddled with a knob on the other side of the laboratory. Her interference distracted me just long enough to accidentally grab a Flailio mind. Normally I would immediately put the thing down. However, given my newer level of understanding in the extradimensional Sciences I decided to experiment with this newest sample. The noetic enhancer I built into my standard lab, quickly coupled with an extradimensional transformer and an orgone accumulator to power it, gave me an exceptional system for ripping through the layers of shielding around their minds. Previously the shell between dimensions, and the pure alien-ness of the Flailio intellect tended to block my noetic interface. At first the images were frantic and, well for lack of a better description flailing. I managed to use the distortions I had on file for these things to act as a sort of filter. Once patching this through the transformer, and readjusted the orgone throughput for a third time, I made contact. Tentative at first, due to the delicate nature of noetic interfaces. Once I was in I simply did a comparison. It took only a few seconds to discover that each Flailio is connected directly to Flailius Maximus. While I did not dare to attack something as powerful as that through the conduit of one of it's pawns, it did give me an idea.

I ushered Ms. Possible to the door, apologizing for the loss of her pet yet again. She understood that another new sample will be needed for me to return the rodent from the dead. Once she was on her way I returned to my lab to begin work. First I knew that my Noetic Sciences would be my main offensive tool. Given my new understanding of extradimensional entities, the fields, and energies involved in such things I have started fermenting a plan. On a more personal note I do not think she is aware of her, condition, yet and I have no plans to tell her of it before she is aware herself. The amount of distress it would cause is far more than I can deal with at the moment.

Date: 03/05/2009

The weapon to end all weapons has been constructed.

I am horrified by my own brilliance, if this monstrosity of Science had been invented earlier the world would be a far more gruesome place. I shudder to think that I actually intend to use this. The machine, which is deceptively harmless looking is horrific in its theoretical effectiveness. Of course I cannot test this abomination I have birthed, as to do so would be to be akin to heralding the apocalypse.

While I will most certainly NOT go into great detail as to its construction I will put my voice to record and describe it's function. First is the power source. I have located a great source of energy at a local taco stand. It seems to be a meeting place for all the high school children in the area. I have placed an orgone accumulator, attached to an etheric transmission unit in the center of the energy vortex. It is probably the most energy I have ever tapped from such a source. While I do not like the idea, I have given the accumulator the ability to syphon directly from the vortex itself, meaning that if so required I can completely drain this most potent source and ravage it for any power I can take. While experimental attempts at this have proven dangerous for the area surrounding such an event, the need to destroy Flailius Maximus makes it a necessary risk.

The weapon itself is the true monster. It saddens me to think that I've been forced to resort to such drastic measures to deal with this threat, but I will do what I must. I have created a device, that when a Flailio, and therefore a connection to Flailius Maximus, is placed inside it begins to work. First the extradimensional signature of the Flailio is examined. It bombards the subject with high intensity etherwaves tuned to disrupt the Flailio extradimensional barriers. A series of etheric waves are then employed to re-tune the conduit to Flailius Maximus. Using these etheric waves to stabilize the connection between the two locations, along with several parts from which I used in my conveyance network which effectively decrease the distance between both ends even further, I can create a strong bridge between Flailius Maximus and the Flailio inside the weapon's chamber. While such a bridge is terrifying in it's ability to allow Flailius to come through to this world a spacial distortion field, tuned specifically to Flailius Maximus, will act as a barrier stronger than any wall. Once this guarded bridge is built I will begin the truly gruesome process. I will refrain from even mentioning the names of some of the works I will use, considering that they were removed from the back issues of some Scientific publication due to the shear dangers in their use.

With that bridge I intend to us my newly acquired understanding of how extradimensional entities are affected by ether waves to forcefully shunt Flailius Maximus from the extradimensional realm it inhabits and into a purely noetic state, where I am much more at home. From there, with a combination of my most powerful inventions I can begin ripping Flailius Maximus into small bits. Once this is done I will render it into shards and contain these shards so that they cannot reconstitute themselves. The containment of the shards, and the sundering of Flailius will require most of the power that my network of orgone accumulators can produce. I will also be traveling into the noetic realms myself. While transubstantiation into pure thought is quite liberating, channeling my whole being through a Flailio is an unsettling idea. I will transfer myself to the field of battle armed with an orgone purifier. Once the shards are created I'll funnel them through the purifier, producing less entropic and negative power which can be gently pumped back into the environment. I cannot overstate the danger of the use of orgone purifiers, they require a sample of pure orgone energy to act as a filter. Since the only thing suitable is a living pattern, I will simplify the explanation. The orgone purifier will require that I use myself as a filter, it will push all the energy through me at a rate I can survive and pull out the purified energies on the other side. The idea of using myself to filter so much energy, not to mention the shear corruption I'll be directly in contact with is disquieting. However it is far better than any other alternative I can come up with.

Since the energies involved are. . .colossal to use a somewhat inadequate term, I will be forced to use a Flailio with a much stronger connection to Flailius than normal. I cannot allow it to disconnect before I can shove it into noetic space. This will require the use of the Super-Flailio, if not a Flailio avatar of Flailius itself. I will settle for the Super-Flailio, which I noticed earlier has a stronger than average connection to its master. A series of kinetic energy nullification fields will stop it from being able to damage anything while the procedure is started.

Date: 03/20/2009

Today is the day. All my "ducks" are in a row. I think I should say something before I begin, but the nervousness over this endeavor has robbed me of my sleep. I cannot think of anything.

Should I not survive this attempt, I hope one of my fellow Scientists discovers this record. Should you be a fellow Scientist, please, continue my work. Stop the Flailios.

Date: 03/30/2009

I have seen the face of evil. I have not only seen its face I have spat upon the unholy ground under its feet. I stood toe to appendage with Flailius Maximus itself. It railed against my barriers, and even for all its might my Scientific genius is proved yet again. My terrible machine worked it's gruesome work. I will never forget the vision. It had a sort of bloodcurdling pernicious beauty all its own. Something deep inside me understands that this, thing, that I have created could be used on anything. Should it be used in such a fashion, without a similar threat to all existence as the Flailios, it would be a most vile crime. Even against such an implacable foe it still smacks of inhumane. I remember this is why I went into these rather esoteric branches of Scientific examination in the first place, to put the heart and soul back into science.

Flailius Maximus is no more. I have rent its very being and transformed it into the stuff of pure power. I then purified the power several times and have stored it in a containment unit to keep it under constant examination. Ms. Possible came by again today. She had "acquired" a sample of that rat again. I was too tired to be of any assistance, the battle, which had taken only forty seconds of real time, had drained nearly all my mental reserves. I promised I would do what I could on the morrow, and sent her away.

Date: 03/31/2009

Ms. Possible came back today. I have been distracted by the container which holds the energy which had been Flailius Maximus all day. I began the procedure to "revive" the mole rat for the third time. Again the energy seemed to distract me at critical junctures, I managed to maintain the machine enough to function. At the very last moment something in me would not back down and I opened the taps to the energy container. Pure orgone energy flooded me. I could feel the raw power surging through every fiber of my being and mind. My hands arced lightning and my eyes were like plasma. The rodent's complete body and noetic form were simply annihilated when the waves of power washed over it. Luckily Ms. Possible was far enough back that she was only singed by the energies. I managed to eventually strap on a containment system and kept the remains of the power within myself.

While raw orgone infusions are not unheard of they are. . .dangerous. This has given me a more, personal, understanding of the nature of Ether and how it interacts with all my other fields of study. I have now began my most ambitious project ever.

Date: 04/20/2009

I have made the greatest discovery of my life. It even eclipses the first time I finally grasped the existence of ether itself. I can FEEL that I am close to understanding Ether. And through that understanding I think I will understand the universe itself.

Date: 05/30/2009

I was right.

To all my fellow Scientists, do not loose hope. I will wait for you there, you are not alone. Remain true to the path.

Of the Offense of the Girl:

From the diary of Kim Possible - The book of Sententia Mortuus

Mother has died; the infection spread throughout the lower half of her body quickly. I can't figure out for the life of me what happened. The autopsy cited a combination of Uteral Perforation and Rapid Fallopian Necrosis, which quickly spread to the rest of her was the cause of death, but there was no evidence of a carrier or a bite infection to cite as the cause. First Rufus vanishes, then mother dies; I told her to get those cramps checked out when she had them; that much excess flow isn't natural for a woman of her age. But now she's gone.

It took some time for the coroner to release mother's body to us, but we wanted them to be thorough. I couldn't bear the sight of her drawn and quartered like that, carved up just to find nothing but decaying black flesh and muscle, tearing apart like burnt meat, the slushy black fluids leaking out onto the mortuary floor, tools lost admist a sea of black, rotten flesh. They didn't even need a knife; pushing on the skin with his hands, the coroner could tear bits and pieces of her off. First the outer layer of skin (what was left of it), then the bits of blood vessels and displaced cartilidge which had shifted throughout the lower half of her body. When he leaned over to better support himself, trying to get the right position to slice away at the flesh over the uterus, the source of the infection. he wanted it in tact. But, he put too much pressure on the stomach, and ripped through the thin layer of fat and flesh. The dark green fluid shot out of her; a gas build up, no doubt, spewing the viscous fluid everywhere. The smell was gut-wrenching. A few of the medical students lost their lunches, adding to the small cesspool of bile and liquid flesh that was collecting in the resovoirs on the side of the table.

The dress we buried her in hid the mutilation, but she was split apart down the middle, her stomach slashed open. Dad made a comment at the funeral, or at least I think he said it, I couldn't really tell what he said. "Just like normal," he said. I don't know what he meant. Not then. Too much else was going on. Sis brought her boyfriend back for the funeral. He was a manager at a radio station, looking for young talent. I never thought that mother's death would bring about anything positive. As I sang for her funeral, the entrepreneur in him couldn't rest. He pulled me aside a few days later, and introduced himself. Haquim Mohammed Akabar, or Haque for short; that's how he wanted it. He said that my mother's death shouldn't be any reason for me to not pursue my talent. I...wasn't sure what to do. I asked him for time to think about it. My mind was a wreck still, and perhaps beating on some bad guys would do the trick. Ron called; we had a problem. Shego was at it again; something about Drakken being missing, no longer paying the bills. I didn't care. I just wanted vengence. That night, I couldn't do it. I just couldn't do it. Shego trounced me, though whether it was my ineptitude as a person or her avarice once she realized that Drakken wasn't there to control her income, I couldn't tell. For weeks, we chased her, hunting her down, trying to stop her wanton destruction. Buildings fell to her new machines, people died as they were irradiated by the poorly constructed bombs she had cobbled together. Slowly but surely, it looked like without the careful guidance of Drakken to keep her in line, she was out of control. Two weeks later, she finally buckled under the pressure of debtors and mercenaries hired to put an end to her rampage. I couldn't do anything. Ron didn't want anything to do with me; for two weeks, he was more productive than I was, coming up with plans, following Shego's every move. Finally, he blew up at me and said I was dragging him down. I couldn't do it anymore.

I called sis, and asked to speak with Haque. After reminder her that he was the middle eastern guy she slept with around the time of Mom's funeral, she finally remembered what that tattoo was for, and gave me his phone number. I was on a plane to California with Dad within a week.

We travelled to his college; Dad didn't even question the exorberant costs that Haque asked for as manager. Dad has seen a few California girls, and wanted to be with them, not me. He was leaving me too. My glory, my abilities, my friends, my mother, all leaving me. I couldn't be happier to be with Haque, someone who at least appreciated one of my skills. Soon, I would be popular again, people would want to be with me. I couldn't wait. Leaving young Artemis in the hands of a baby-sitter Haque had slept with a few days back, we went to "spruce me up." Apparently, red hair just didn't sell these days, and they'd see me as another Lohan rip off. I needed to be bleached. As the chemicals burned through to the roots of my hair, people crowded around me, slopping on make up until I looked like a parisian woman of the night. The black corset with high-heel leather boots complemented the corset nicely, but I wanted more than just panties on, though the lace was more comfortable that I had thought prior. Why didn't Mom and Dad ever buy this for me before? As I left the beauty parlor, I noticed even more looks than I had gotten before. Men and women couldn't keep their eyes, and in some cases, hands, off me. The attention was wonderful; the same feeling I had earlier. I met Dad later that night in the apartment he had rented for us; it was cheaper than a hotel, and since we were staying awhile, I didn't hurt to get someplace to hide out once in awhile. Dad had friends over; I think I counted five unique moans, but I couldn't tell if one was a guy or a girl. I don't understand him at all. I asked him the next morning, and blew up at me. "If that slut could do it, so can I! She's lorded over me long enough!" I didn't press him. I needed to eat breakfast and get ready to go anyways. Before I could start on my breakfast, someone knocked on the door. Haque was there, new suit, new glasses, and, I guessed, a new car. He saw me with the breakfast sandwich and slapped it out of my hand. "No!" he screamed, "you need to lose weight, not put more on!" He handed me a cup of yogurt; "Eat this." Slowly, I spooned in the bit of plain yogurt. No additives, no excess sugar. I could taste something strange in it, which I could only assume was diet supplements...or suppressants. "You need to do this, Kimmy. You won't go far as a singer if you're that fat." I cringed at the idea; me, fat? Well, I hadn't been doing as well when I was still fighting evil, and I had been in mourning for some time. Maybe I had put on weight.

We drove around for hours, going from meeting to meeting. I don't know how Haque knew these people, but they all promised me fame and fortune. Different costumes at different places. All day we darted around with the different record companies, Haque holding out for more money at easy one. He rammed the price up to $2 million, making an artificial bidding war. He was magical in his manipulation. Each time, he pushed harder and harder, giving us a bigger cut. All week went like this; Artemis went to the baby sitter, Dad went out to a new club each night, and I played the town. More and more people falling asleep at our apartment. By Wednesday, we had a note from the management that we couldn't have more than 4 occupants. By Friday, we had 2 dogs and a cat. Dad was getting out of control, but I didn't care. I was up to $6 million now, and I hadn't even demonstrated my singing. They wanted me, badly. On Saturday night, Haque took me to a large dinner party at Epic Records. He took me to the back after a bit of showcasing and social carousing. "Alright Kimmy, now you just need to show them that you're "mature" enough to make a deal their way." I didn't understand what he meant, but he took me to a private room in the house; the man who was investing in me from Epic Records was there, lying on a bed. I quickly realized what he meant. Drakken was my first, and Artemis was proof of that. I guess that doing this wouldn't be any different. The door closed, and for the next two hours, I earned my way into the music industry.

The record was going well; Three weeks in and the voice synth had finally produced a combination of sounds that they liked, and I got the synching down. It was pretty easy actually. It didn't take long to get me into role. Dad left on a "binge" for that week; I hadn't hear from him. After the recording session, I went out with some of the back up singers; we hit the town, went to the bars. I wasn't old enough, but surprisingly, no one cared. Captain Coke wasn't that bad; I sort of liked it. The girls all found someone to go with, and said I had best start to market myself. I found a guy who looked good enough, and just went with him. We were at his place by 1 am, no extra drinks necessary. At 1:30, my phone rang. It was The police. I freaked, wondering if someone had known that I was drinking at the bar; but it wasn't about me. It was my father.

Doctor James Timothy Possible:

Found dead 25 miles outside of Orange Country, California in the Silverado area. Apparent cause of death: Extensive blunt force trauma to the frontal lobe, resulting in a vasogenic cerebral edema, in addition or independent of massive intestinal hemorrhaging, both produced by unknown causes. Police arrived at the scene to find Mr. Possible half-naked and dead, apparently tossed from his horse, also deceased. Local police have released an official statement citing the cause of death as a riding accident due to a promiscuous horse which became "out of control." Mr. Possible was found 10 meters from his horse, which had shattered its front ankles and died from exhaustion. Police are still investigating the cause of the horse's injuries and the cause of the internal hemorrhaging, as well as Mr. Possible's attire. Several narcotics were found in Mr. Possible's possession, perhaps relating to the unusual incident.


End file.
